


a cure for sleepless nights

by gothyringwald



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Cute, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Insomnia, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Movie Night, Pining, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: It’s been weeks since Steve has slept properly. He doesn’t know what brought it on except, maybe, a pair of blue eyes and the logical conclusion to a couple of months of self reflection. Whatever started them, they don’t show any sign of letting up.When he invites Billy Hargrove to one of his and Robin’s movie nights on a whim, he could easily write it off as lack of sleep. But maybe there’s more to it and maybe Steve will find the cure for his sleepless nights, yet.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington
Comments: 188
Kudos: 584





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of poured out of me which is quite rare! I guess it’s what I needed to write, so hopefully it’s what you need to read :)
> 
> A huge thank you to [womenseemwicked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/womenseemwicked/pseuds/womenseemwicked) for looking this over for me and encouraging me <3333
> 
> I [made a moodboard :)](https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/616781787838988288/a-cure-for-sleepless-nights-t-wip-its-been)
> 
> [Beautiful art by LazyBaker/granpappy-winchester](https://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com/post/619203862769942528/for-gothyringwald-for-their-super-sweet-and-soft)

Two people are falling in love in black and white on Steve’s television. At least, he thinks they’re falling in love. He zoned out about twenty minutes ago, the soft flickering light, which sucks the colour out of the living room, and the chatter of the television, lulling him into a sleepy daze.

Beside him, Robin is sitting with one leg bent up, the other tucked under her, as she chews on a seemingly never ending rope of red licorice. She occasionally points out something she wants Steve to pay attention to, waving the licorice at the TV screen, or nudging Steve with her elbow, but mostly she’s quiet. Keeps shushing Steve if _he_ dares to speak up.

But Steve doesn’t mind. Movie nights have become their thing, and he actually looks forward to them. Sometimes the kids join them, sometimes Nancy, but mostly it’s just the two of them. It’s nice, even if Steve has only chosen a movie once, and then Robin had vetoed any of his future choices for the rest of eternity. Steve thinks it was an overreaction— _Conan the Barbarian_ is a good movie—but she’s the one who knows about this stuff, so he just went along with it.

The thing is, it’s been a long day, and Steve hasn’t slept properly in weeks. He doesn’t know what sparked the sleepless nights. If they had started right after that day in July, he’d get it. 

These had started months later, coming on with no warning, except, maybe, a pair of blue eyes and the logical conclusion to a couple of months of self reflection after Robin’s confession. 

Whatever started them, they don’t show any sign of letting up. 

But, tonight, with the murmur of the TV and Robin beside him and everything else, his eyes feel too heavy to keep open. So he finally stops resisting the pull and it feels so good to surrender to the sleepiness that’s been tugging at him. He’ll just close his eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

And then, all too soon, he jerks awake. He blinks, shaking himself, and realises he’s slumped toward Robin.

She’s giving him an incredulous look. ‘Did you just fall asleep on me?’

‘No?’ Steve sits up straight, runs a hand over his face.

‘Really? Because you were drooling all over me.’ Robin points to her shoulder where, presumably, Steve had nodded off.

‘I don’t drool.’ Steve wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. Definitely no drool. Robin’s crazy.

Robin is staring at him, brows raised.

Steve had told her about his sleep issues, and maybe that’s why she looks concerned beneath her annoyance. But, still, he gives a little shrug and says, ‘Sorry, guess the movie put me to sleep.’

Robin’s eyes narrow but she sighs and her lips tilt into that smile she gets when Steve’s done something goofy. ‘Yeah, well, that’s because, despite my best efforts, you still have no taste.’

‘I’m uncultured swine, what can I say?’ Steve says, but his voice cracks on a yawn.

The movie is still playing in the background, so Robin picks the remote up and presses stop. ‘You know, it’s getting pretty late,’ she says, ‘I should get home. Before Mom worries.’

‘That’s cool,’ Steve says, swallowing another yawn, ‘want me to drive you home?’

Robin nods and stands. She reaches a hand down to Steve—‘Come on, old man’—and pulls him up.

Steve stretches, his back popping, and scratches a hand through his hair. He still feels sleepy but it is late and Robin lives the other side of town. 

They leave the videos on Steve’s coffee table and go outside. The crisp night air wakes Steve up a little and by the time he’s got the engine going, and he’s pulling out of his drive, he’s fully awake.

But, still, he yawns again when he’s waving Robin off.

‘Don’t fall asleep at the wheel,’ Robin says, in her usual deadpan tone, but there’s something serious beneath it.

‘I won’t,’ Steve says, ‘see you tomorrow,’ and then he waits until Robin has gone inside before he drives home.

The house is quiet and still, his parents long since gone to bed, and Steve trudges up to his room, hoping the sleepiness he felt on the couch will overtake him once he’s between his sheets. He feels hopeful all through brushing his teeth and taking a leak and even as he’s stripping down to his shorts. 

But, when he’s finally lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he only feels wide awake.

—

Steve slumps into a chair at the kitchen table, across from his dad. Well, either his dad or a huge newspaper drinking a cup of coffee. Steve rolls his eyes. Same as every morning.

‘Morning,’ he grumbles, when his mom brings him a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes. They’re fluffy and there’s a glob of butter melting on top of them.

‘Morning, sweetheart.’ His mom sits next to him and frowns. She’s wearing a cream silk robe, her hair still up in large curlers. ‘You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well?’

Steve shrugs a shoulder and drowns his pancakes in maple syrup. He stabs his fork into them, breaking off a chunk, and shoving it into his mouth.

‘You always look tired, lately,’ his mom says. ‘You’re not sick, are you?’ She presses the back of her hand to his forehead. ‘You don’t feel warm, but I can make an appointment with Doctor Armstrong. Just in case.’

‘I’m fine,’ Steve says around a mouthful of pancakes.

The newspaper folds down, Steve’s dad frowning across the table. ‘Stop babying him, Veronica.’ He looks at Steve and raises a brow. ‘You know, you do look rough. New girlfriend keeping you up?’ He winks.

‘I don’t have a girlfriend,’ Steve says, face hot.

‘What about that girl you work with? The one with the bird name.’

‘Robin isn’t my girlfriend.’

‘Well, you’re young,’ his dad says, ‘you have to sow your wild oats. It’s the Harrington way.’

Steve’s mom makes a small tutting sound but his dad doesn’t notice. He just gulps down the rest of his coffee, wipes his mouth with a napkin, and gets up. ‘I’m off to the office and I’m leaving for Chicago this afternoon, remember?’

‘Yes, I remember,’ Steve’s mother says.

‘Did you pick up my suit from the dry-cleaners?’

‘Yes, darling. Just like I told you when you asked twenty minutes ago.’ She looks over at Steve, giving him an exasperated look, and Steve can’t help but share a small smile with her.

His dad grunts and picks up the jacket spread over the back of his chair, shrugging it on. He straightens out his collar and tie, then presses a quick, chaste kiss to Steve’s mom’s cheek.

‘I’m counting on you to take care of your mother, this weekend,’ he says, pointing a finger at Steve, almost smiling. ‘And behave.’ 

‘I will,’ Steve says and then his dad nods at him and leaves. The front door opens and closes and his dad’s car rumbles away.

His mother shakes her head and clears away his dad’s plate and cup. ‘Have you had enough to eat?’ she asks over her shoulder, putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. 

Steve licks his lips, sticky with maple syrup. ‘Yes, thanks,’ he says, feeling even sleepier with a full stomach. He drinks some coffee, hot and bitter.

His mom clears his plate away, too, then turns the dishwasher on. ‘OK, well, I’m going to get ready and I’ll see you later.’ She presses a kiss to his forehead and then Steve is alone.

He yawns again and wishes he didn’t have to work today.

—

‘I do not snore,’ Steve says, face hot, as he moves the new weekly tapes from their original boxes into the rental boxes.

‘Oh, you snore, Harrington,’ Robin says. ‘It’s like…I don’t know what it’s like. But I’m surprised you didn’t wake your parents up, you’re that loud.’

‘So, Harrington’s a screamer, huh?’ Billy Hargrove is leaning on the counter, drumming his fingers. His lips are tilted in that perma-smirk of his and there’s a strange glint in his eyes. ‘Always pegged him for one of the quiet ones.’

Steve flushes.

Robin screws her nose up. ‘I was talking about his _snoring_.’

Billy raises a brow and tilts his chin up. ‘And how do you know he snores?’ That glint in his eyes is still there and Steve can’t read it. But, whatever it is, it makes something hot squirm in his stomach.

‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ Robin says, ‘but we were watching movies and he fell asleep.’

‘You could join us next time,’ Steve blurts. It’s been on the tip of his tongue every time Billy comes into the store, and Steve can’t figure why. It’s not like he was friends with Billy _before_ and he’s barely spoken to him since summer. But something keeps pulling him toward Billy and, finally, he’s managed to say something about it.

‘Thanks for the offer,’ Billy says, leaning forward over the counter and lowering his voice, ‘but threesomes aren’t my bag.’ He winks.

Before Steve can say anything else, Robin says, ‘You’re disgusting,’ to Billy, and, ‘I’m taking my break,’ to Steve, before she walks off, into the staff room.

Steve turns back to Billy who’s still grinning wickedly at him, tongue between his teeth. ‘I mean,’ Steve says, clearing his throat, ‘to watch movies.’

Billy hums. ‘Well, that sounds thrilling—’

‘Whatever.’ Steve huffs. ‘You don’t have to come.’

‘I wasn’t finished.’ Billy looks at Steve, eyes flashing, and adds, ‘I was _saying_ , that sounds thrilling, and I would just love to come to your nerdy little movie night.’

‘See, now it sounds like you’re being sarcastic,’ Steve says, cocking a hip and resting his hand on it, the other braced on the counter, ‘but I think you really want to come. In fact, I bet you’ve been waiting for me to invite you over.’ His heart thuds hard.

‘You think so, huh?’

‘I do.’

Billy surprises Steve by shaking his head and laughing. ‘Damn, Harrington, you just see right through me.’

‘Do you wanna come, or not?’

‘What time do you nerds meet up?’

‘Seven, my place.’ Steve points a finger at Billy. ‘And I am not a nerd.’

‘Whatever you say,’ Billy says, winks again, then walks out of the store.

The staff room door opens and Robin peeks her head out. ‘The coast clear?’

Steve snorts. ‘Yes, but uh—’ He tilts his head as Robin comes back over, taking up her half of the tapes again. ‘You’re not gonna like this.’

‘He said yes, didn’t he?’

Steve nods, not looking at Robin.

‘Why did you invite him?’

‘He’s always alone,’ Steve says, closing a box and setting it aside. It’s the last one. ‘And Max said he doesn’t really have any, you know, friends.’ 

‘Oh, so you want to be his _friend_ ,’ Robin says, looking at Steve in a way that Steve doesn’t like. But when Steve only shrugs, she crosses her arms and says, ‘Whatever, but I’m not watching any of that macho bullshit he always rents. I pick the movie.’ She points a thumb at herself.

‘Right. So, totally different to every other movie night, then?’ Steve says, the squirming in his gut starting to settle now that he’s back on familiar ground.

Robin raises a brow at him.

Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Fine, you pick the movie.’

Robin smiles and pats Steve on the shoulder. ‘I have trained you well, my friend.’

A customer saves Steve from any more of Robin’s quips and he busies himself helping her find the movie she’s after—‘It had red on the cover, I think, and it had that guy that was in, you know, that movie?’—all thoughts of Billy far from his mind until he and Robin close up.

As he waits for Robin to pick out tonight’s movies, he can’t push down the knots that start forming in his stomach or the tingling in his blood. He tries not to hope too much, because Billy probably won’t even show. 

And that’s fine. Steve had only asked to be polite.

That’s all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> This is all but finished - the next 4 chapters just need to be polished a little - so I will be updating twice a week, which is hopefully not too much :) (posting on Monday and Thursday mornings Australia time, which are Sunday and Wednesday nights in the US/Canada and probably very early in the morning for UK/Europe and now I have exhausted my timezone knowledge)
> 
> Also, I know some people really don’t like knowing an author’s face casts for characters who don’t appear onscreen in canon or whatever so I won’t _tell_ you who mine are for Steve’s parents in case you know what they look like but, if you are curious, I’ve [got some pics over here](https://imgur.com/a/XXyo2Ud) (and other family members too)


	2. Chapter 2

The minute hand on Steve’s watch ticks over to seven forty-five. His stomach drops. He tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice when he says, ‘I guess Billy isn’t coming,’ but he’s not sure he succeeds.

‘What a pity,’ Robin says.

Steve’s stomach sinks further. He shrugs, swallowing thickly. ‘Yeah.’ 

‘Oh, shit’—Robin is watching Steve closely—‘you _really_ want him to come, don’t you?’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Then why are we waiting for him to watch the movie? And why have you checked your watch seven times in the past ten minutes?’ Robin shifts around, so she’s facing Steve. She waves a hand at his hair. ‘And you fixed your hair after work.’

‘So? I always do.’

‘Not for movie night.’

Steve’s face warms. He glances at his watch again. Seven forty-seven. ‘Whatever,’ he mutters.

A few moments of silence stretch out, and Steve can practically _feel_ Robin’s considering gaze on the side of his face, before she says, ‘It’s almost like you’re waiting for a—‘

Steve is pretty sure he can fill in that blank but, still, he says, ‘A what?’

‘Nothing,’ Robin says, shaking her head. 

Sometimes, Steve almost wishes he’d never told Robin. But it was her confession that knocked loose that feeling in him and he figured he owed it to her. Or maybe it was selfish, maybe he just didn’t want to keep it all inside. 

The look on her face, though, when Steve jumps up the moment the doorbell rings adds another tick in the regret column. 

‘Say hi to your _buddy_ for me,’ Robin yells out after him.

Steve grits his teeth and ignores the way his heart thuds hard behind his ribs as he moves through the house, wiping his hands on his jeans. He’s being ridiculous. It probably isn’t even Billy. And, even if it is, there’s no reason to feel like _this_.

Steve opens the door.

The porch light shines down on Billy, catching flyaway hairs, making them glow gold. He’s wearing a grey sweatshirt under a denim jacket—Steve hasn’t seen him in leather in a while—and he’s smoking a cigarette. His head is bowed but he looks up when the door opens.

‘Hey,’ Steve says, one hand braced on the door.

‘Hey.’

‘You, uh, wanna come in?’

‘Yeah, I can’t watch the movie from out here, can I?’ 

Steve flushes. Real smooth, Harrington. He shakes his head and steps aside.

Billy throws his cigarette on the porch and crushes the butt under his heel.

The scent of hairspray and cigarette smoke wafts past as Billy moves inside, catching at the back of Steve’s throat. Inexplicably, it makes warmth rush through him. He shuts the door firmly, then leads Billy through to the living room, Billy oddly quiet behind him.

Robin is shuffling the stack of VHS tapes on the coffee table but she looks up when they come in—her eyes still full of something that makes Steve feel too seen—and says, ‘Oh, good. You’re here. Now we can finally watch a movie.’

‘Don’t tell me you waited for little old me,’ Billy says, pressing a hand to his chest, ‘I’m touched.’

Robin gives Billy a withering look and Steve shifts his weight. He looks at Billy. ‘You want a drink, or anything?’

‘I’m good,’ Billy says.

‘Cool.’ Steve hesitates a moment then grabs the video Robin is holding out and puts it in the VCR. He sits beside her, leaving Billy to sit in the wicker armchair next to the couch.

‘What’re we watching?’ Billy asks, sprawled out in the chair, looking every inch like he belongs here.

‘Um…’ Steve left the box by the TV and he hadn’t actually looked at the cover. He’s never heard of most of the movies Robin likes to make him watch and he’s stopped trying to remember the titles.

‘ _Gilda_ ,’ Robin says, peering around Steve so she can look at Billy. ‘I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.’

‘Well, I guess my life has been empty until now,’ Billy says, deadpan. ‘I bet it’s the best fucking film ever.’

‘Right,’ Steve says, picking up the remote, ‘let’s find out.’ He presses play, blood tingling in his veins.

Robin settles back, arms crossed, and scowling. Billy is smirking in the armchair.

Steve sighs. Maybe this was a mistake. 

Five minutes into the movie, Billy says, ‘Wait is this all in fucking black and white?’ and Steve is certain it was a mistake.

‘Yes,’ Robin says, ‘it’s a classic.’ She gestures to the screen. ‘Now shut up, and watch the movie.’

Billy’s nostrils flare and his jaw clenches. But he lets out one long breath and says, ‘Jesus,’ turning to Steve. ‘You got some beer or something? I’m going to need something to drink if I have to watch this old shit.’

‘Sure,’ Steve says, ‘I’ll go get one,’ and rushes into the kitchen. He feels like maybe he should’ve defended Robin’s movie choice but it’s not like he’s really into old movies, either. Too much talking, not enough action.

Moments later Billy comes through the kitchen door, doing a quick scan of the room. ‘So,’ he says, propping his hip against the counter, ‘you spend all your Friday nights watching old movies with your girlfriend in there?’

‘Robin isn’t my girlfriend,’ Steve says, opening the fridge and grabbing three cans of beer. 

Something flickers in Billy’s eyes. ‘You sure about that?’ He crosses his arms over his chest. ‘You two are basically joined at the hip.’

‘Uh, yeah, pretty sure.’ Steve hands a can of beer to Billy. There’s something strange in Billy’s voice but maybe it’s just that they’re not friends or anything, not really, and so it’s weird to talk about this. But, then again, Billy brought it up.

‘Why not? She’s sort of cute.’ Billy tilts his head, then adds, ‘For a nerd.’

And, oh.

An unpleasant wave of heat washes through Steve. Shit. Billy likes… ‘She is,’ Steve says, swallowing thickly, ‘but I’m not her type.’

‘Thought King Steve was everyone’s type.’

‘Yeah, not so much,’ Steve says, face warm and ears ringing. ‘We should, uh—‘ He jerks his head toward the living room and walks off.

‘I paused the movie,’ Robin says, when Steve settles back beside her and hands her a can of beer.

‘Oh thank god,’ Billy says, all but sauntering into the room, ‘would’ve hated to miss anything.’

‘You could do with some culture in your life,’ Robin says, popping the ring on her can of beer. ‘I know what movies you rent. They’re nothing but macho posturing.’ She takes a sip of her beer, nose scrunched up.

‘And this is better’—Billy gestures to the TV with his own beer—‘just because it’s old? Sorry, a classic?’

‘No. Because it’s art.’

‘That’s bullshit,’ Billy says. 

But Steve barely hears it, barely hears any of it, because all he can think is that Billy has a thing for Robin and how fucking unfair it is. It’s not like he thought _he_ and Billy—

Billy likes girls—only likes girls—and Steve knows that. And it’s not like— Steve doesn’t even—

But, fuck. Why did Billy have to have a thing for Robin?

Steve folds his arms over his stomach, slumps down on the couch, and does his best to focus on the movie. 

It turns out old movies aren’t so bad if you actually concentrate on them. At least they’re better than thinking about his stupid fucking life.

‘Well that was fucking boring,’ Billy says, when the movie is finished.

‘I’m sure you would’ve liked it better if there were explosions and inexplicably naked women,’ Robin says, leaning across Steve.

Billy grins, tongue between his teeth.

Steve just groans, and lets his head hit the back of the couch.

That makes Robin blink, and turn to Steve. Her eyes flick in Billy’s direction, back to Steve. ‘Hey, uh, I should get home. I’ve got a test to study for.’

‘It’s Friday night,’ Billy says.

‘And?’

‘You’ve got all weekend to study. Why waste a perfectly good Friday?’

Robin gives Billy a disbelieving look, but she doesn’t say anything else.

But Steve’s stomach is in knots, again, because Billy clearly wants Robin to stay. He shoots Billy a quick look, then says, ‘Do you need a ride home?’ to Robin.

‘Got my bike.’

‘Are you sure? It’s getting late.’

‘I’ll be fine, Harrington,’ she says, and punches Steve in the shoulder.

‘OK,’ Steve says, ‘but I’ll see you out.’

Robin shakes her head, but she’s smiling.

Through this exchange, Billy is silent, and Steve can’t bring himself to look over. But curiosity wins out and he glances to Billy. His stomach plummets when he sees the look on Billy’s face. He looks…annoyed. 

Steve pushes himself up, not looking at Billy again, and follows Robin out of the house.

Just as Robin is buckling up her helmet, Steve grabs her elbow. ‘Hey, I need to talk to you.’ He lets his hand fall to his side.

‘Sure,’ Robin says.

A bitter wind rustles the leaves on the front lawn and the sky stretches above, inky and clear, heavy with stars. 

Steve presses his lips together. He doesn’t want Robin to feel awkward, but she should know. Right? ‘It’s about Billy.’

When Steve doesn’t say anything else, Robin says, ‘I’m sorry for giving you shit about—‘ She cuts herself off, looking somewhere over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve turns. ‘Oh, hey,’ he says to Billy, who is standing on the porch, hands in his pockets. ‘What are you doing?’

Billy’s brows raise but then he walks over to them, saying, ‘Thought it’d be rude not to see the lady out,’ and actually winks at Robin.

Steve’s stomach is all twisted up but Robin only snorts.

‘Wow, such a gentleman,’ Robin says. ‘How would I have been able to manage without two strong men making sure I get on my bike OK?’

‘No need to thank me,’ Billy says. 

‘Right.’ Robin gets on her bike. She looks at Steve and says, ‘I’ll see you at work, tomorrow,’ then gives a little wave as she rides off. 

‘So,’ Billy says, turning to Steve when Robin is out of sight, ‘you got any decent movies to watch, or just that weird shit Buckley likes?’

‘I’ve got _Conan the Barbarian_ ,’ Steve says. It was due back a week ago.

‘Now _that_ is a movie,’ Billy says.

He grins and, for a moment, Steve forgets all about unfair crushes.

—

There’s a pleasant fuzziness infusing Steve’s blood and filling his head. It could be the beers he’s had since Robin left, or it could be how easy it is to forget that Billy has a thing for Robin when his thigh is pressed tight to Steve’s and he keeps nudging Steve with his elbow when Arnold Schwarzenegger does something cool and he’s so warm and smells so good.

Or it could just be the soft, almost hypnotic flicker of the television.

Whatever it is, all the tension that had slowly crept into him earlier just melts away, and Steve feels lulled again, sleep pulling at him.

It would be so easy to give in. He should give in.

As his eyes slip closed, his hand falls onto Billy’s knee, and his head turns, falling against the couch. At least, he thinks it’s the couch. It’s so warm. So warm. 

There are no dreams, no restless tossing and turning, just a deep, comfortable sleep. Waking comes slowly after it, the world fading back in around Steve piece by piece.

First, the hiss of static on the television, then the solid warmth beneath his cheek, then the crick in his neck, and the soft sounds of someone else breathing.

He sits up, heart racing, even as he’s still half in a sleepy daze. He fell asleep next to Billy. No. He fell asleep _on Billy_. Because he realises now the solid warmth he’d practically fucking _cuddled_ into was Billy’s shoulder.

Shit.

But Billy is asleep too, which means he won’t know that Steve was sleeping on him. At least, Steve can hope.

Still, Steve jerks away, not wanting to be too close to Billy when he wakes up. But he upsets the bowl of popcorn that was somehow still sitting on his lap and it falls, landing heavily on his foot.

‘Ow, fuck.’

Billy stirs, making a funny kind of snuffling sound, as he sits up straight. His hair is all flat on one side. ‘What the fuck?’

Steve’s heart does a weird little pitter patter and he has to shove his hands under his arms so he doesn’t do something stupid like reach out and smooth Billy’s hair. ‘The popcorn fell,’ he says, and then, ‘Guess we fell asleep.’

‘Seems you’re making a habit of it.’

‘Huh?’

‘Buckley said you fell asleep on her the other night.’ Billy blinks at Steve. ‘Remember?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ Steve says. He swallows thickly. He remembers, now—Billy didn’t really come here for him. But, a small voice says, didn’t he stay here for Steve? 

‘Don’t blame you. Her movies would put anyone to sleep.’ There is a roughness to Billy’s voice and it’s slower. He scrubs a hand over his face.

Steve cuts his gaze away, turning his attention to the mess on the rug. Thankfully they’d eaten most of the popcorn so it doesn’t take much to sweep the spilled kernels back into the bowl and set it on the coffee table. When he turns back, Billy is still watching him.

‘It must be pretty late,’ Steve says, and something he hadn’t realised was open in Billy’s gaze quickly shutters. Steve’s heart skips. ‘You wanna rewind and finish the movie?’

‘Yeah,’ Billy says, slowly, ‘why not?’

Steve smiles and picks up the remote. The reversing images are dizzying, but not as dizzying as the thought that Billy doesn’t want to leave.

They finish the movie, and then watch another, and Billy doesn’t leave until 5am. And, even then, he seems reluctant and Steve is sure he isn’t imagining it.

When Steve crawls into bed, knowing his alarm clock will wake him up in less than two hours, he doesn’t even care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Did I make them watch Gilda because of the homoerotic subtext? You’ll never know! 
> 
> Also, sorry there wasn’t much Billy in chapter one but hopefully this makes up for it? And I enjoyed writing him and Robin interacting - I like the idea that they’ll always be like this even as friends. Like they always bicker but if anyone else said anything about them they’d be ready to throw down you know?
> 
> ETA: I'm not active on tumblr anymore but I got inspired and made a moodboard so I posted it there because I didn't know where else to post it haha but [here it is](https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/616781787838988288/a-cure-for-sleepless-nights-t-wip-its-been)


	3. Chapter 3

There’s a chill in the air when Steve gets out of his car, parked out back of Family Video. The early morning light is grey and thin and Steve is grateful for the clouds that hide the sun.

He’d woken up feeling like shit, head pounding, neck stiff, even though he’d felt better than he had in ages when he went to bed. Two hours of sleep would have been fine, if it weren’t for all the sleepless nights he’s had lately.

Steve runs a hand over his face and takes the store keys out of his pocket, moments before Robin rides up on her bike. They’ve got the opening shift together.

‘Hey,’ Robin says, taking her helmet off, ‘you look like shit.’ She looks tired, too, was probably up most of the night studying.

But Steve only groans and says, ‘Thanks, good morning to you, too.’

Robin is grinning when she says, ‘Hargrove keep you up all night?’

Steve ignores her, opening the door and stepping inside. A heavy feeling settles in his stomach at the mention of Billy, but he pushes it aside, flipping on the lights so they can set up the store for the day.

All throughout their shift, Steve can’t help but watch Robin, thinking about Billy, how he’d said Robin is cute and seemed disappointed when she left. It’s not like he can blame Billy—even if it’s super weird to think about Robin like that now—but it _stings_.

‘OK, why do you keep staring at me?’ Robin says, trying to make the cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates stand up, after a small child knocked it over. At least it wasn’t Steve this time.

‘I’m not.’ Steve licks his lips. If he tells Robin, it might make her uncomfortable. But then, this is the kind of thing friends tell each other, right? He crosses his arms over his stomach. ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you.’

Robin frowns at the cutout and sets it aside. ‘OK,’ she says to Steve, ‘what about?’

‘Billy.’

‘Is this what you wanted to tell me last night?’

Steve nods.

‘I wanted to say something, too,’ Robin says. She twirls her finger in her hair. ‘I’m sorry for giving you shit about him.’ She looks around the store, making sure it’s empty, and lowers her voice. ‘If you like him it’s, you know, cool. I mean, your taste in women is obviously better than your taste in men’—she shoots Steve a smile—‘but maybe beneath all that hair and machismo he’s—‘

‘I think he likes you,’ Steve blurts.

Robin laughs. ‘What? He spent all night ribbing me.’

‘No, I mean, he _like_ likes you.’

‘I got that’s what you meant.’ Robin’s brow furrows and she moves over to Steve. ‘Are you feeling OK? Did you hit your head this morning?’ She makes a reverse peace sign. ‘How many fingers am I holding up?’

Steve bats her hand away. ‘I’m serious. He said you’re cute.’

‘What? Gross.’ Robin chews on her lip. ‘That doesn’t make any sense. I really thought—‘

‘You thought what?’

Robin shakes her head, waving her hands. ‘What were you talking about?’

‘You, obviously.’

‘Tell me _exactly_ what you both said.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. This is important.’

Steve sighs but he goes through the whole conversation—how Billy had quizzed Steve about his relationship with Robin—the best he remembers it, anyway.

‘OK, so are you sure he wasn’t just trying to see if you were lying about us, you know, being a thing.’ Robin makes a disgusted face. ‘Which, ugh, also gross.’

‘Thanks.’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t know. Why would he do that, anyway, unless it was to scope out if you’re single?’ He hugs his arms tighter around his stomach. He wishes he hadn’t brought this up.

Robin shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Except maybe…’

‘Maybe what?’

‘To see if you’re single?’

‘But why would—‘ Heat rushes through Steve and there’s a whistling sound in his ears. ‘No.’ Steve shakes his head. ‘Billy’s not…’

A group of kids rush past the store, their excited chatter filtering in, on their way to the arcade.

‘Crazier things have happened,’ Robin says. ‘But you’re into him, right?’

Steve ducks his head and shrugs one shoulder. ‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Why not?’

‘Billy likes girls.’ Steve looks up.

Robin is smiling softly, and Steve can’t tell if it’s a sad smile, or if it’s a ‘you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,’ kind of smile. When she says, ‘So do you,’ Steve thinks it might be both.

Before Steve can say anything else a woman comes in with a gaggle of children, and Robin goes over to help them.

Steve busies himself with getting the cutout to stand upright, wondering if their crazy life could be Billy Hargrove is into guys and he likes Steve Harrington kind of crazy, or if Robin is seeing something that isn’t there.

—

Rows of milk cartons stretch before Steve, blurred by his tired eyes. It’s been a long day—it had gotten really busy toward the end of his shift—and all Steve wants is to go home and throw himself onto the couch. But his mom had called Family Video, asking if he could pick up some milk and bread on his way home, which was not at all embarrassing.

‘I can see how you’d be having trouble making a decision.’ A drawling voice breaks through Steve’s daze. ‘I mean, do you get the milk…or do you get the milk?’

Steve blinks and looks over to find Billy smirking at him. ‘Billy.’

‘That’s my name,’ Billy says, half smiling, half frowning.

‘I need milk.’

‘I figured.’

Steve holds back a groan, but he can’t stop the heat from flooding his face. He shakes himself and finally turns and grabs a carton of milk, hoping the cool air from the fridge will stop his blush. ‘You need any?’

Billy shakes his head.

‘Cool,’ Steve says. All he can think about is how Robin thinks Billy likes him, not her, and he’s so tired he might just do something stupid like blurt out ‘Do you like me?’ in the middle of the grocery store. He swallows the words down and says, ‘Well…I’ve got my milk.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Billy says.

‘I should pay for it.’ Jesus Christ.

Billy’s brows shoot up. ‘I don’t know, you could try for a five finger discount.’

‘I could.’

Billy huffs, shifts his weight, and in that moment Steve thinks he looks as awkward as Steve feels.

But it must be the lack of sleep because Billy Hargrove doesn’t do awkward…does he? It steels Steve, though, and instead of moving toward the checkout, he says, ‘Are you busy tonight?’

‘Not really.’ Billy chews on his thumbnail. ‘Why?’

‘I thought we could hang out. If you want.’

Billy shrugs one shoulder. ‘Yeah, guess so.’

‘OK, um, do you wanna meet me later, or—‘

‘I’m not doing anything now,’ Billy says. 

And, fuck, he seems eager to hang out. Like it’s not just something to do to pass the time or ease his boredom. Like he really wants to. It makes warmth rise up behind Steve’s ribs. ‘Right, I’ll just pay for this, then,’ Steve says. His gaze flicks to Billy’s hands. They’re empty. ‘I can wait for you outside if you need to pick anything up.’

‘I got what I came for,’ Billy says.

Steve can’t stop himself from smiling. ‘OK,’ he says and turns toward the checkout, pretty damn certain Billy will follow.

—

‘I better put the milk in the fridge,’ Steve says, when he lets Billy and himself into his house. ‘You can wait in the living room if you want. I’ll just uh—’ He gestures toward the kitchen, tongue clumsy, and walks off.

His mom is standing by the kitchen counter, cup of coffee in one hand as she leans over a magazine, scribbling in it. 

When Steve moves closer, he can see that she’s filling in a crossword. ‘Hey, mom,’ he says, putting the milk in the fridge.

‘Hi, honey.’ His mom looks up, setting her pen aside. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, then she frowns. ‘Steven, where’s the bread?’

‘Sh—‘ Steve starts but his mom raises her brows. He clears his throat. ‘Shoot, I forgot. Sorry.’

From behind him, someone snorts. Steve wheels around. He hadn’t realised Billy followed him into the kitchen. 

‘Oh, you brought a friend home,’ his mom says, straightening her blouse, and smoothing out her hair.

Steve blushes. Something about the way she says it makes it sound like he’s back in elementary school.

His mom extends a hand toward Billy, saying, ‘Steven always forgets to introduce me to his friends.’

‘I’m Billy.’ Billy’s eyes are a little wide as he takes her hand in his own, holding it firmly.

‘It’s very nice to meet you, Billy,’ Steve’s mom says. Her gaze flicks up and down, her lips pursing as she seems to linger on Billy’s earring, his hair. She draws her hand away, smiling warmly now. ‘If you two boys need anything, you know where I am.’ 

‘Thanks,’ Steve says, face warm. He starts to usher Billy out of the room, but pauses and turns back. ‘Sorry about the bread.’

‘Don’t worry, honey, I’ll get some tomorrow. Thanks for getting the milk.’ His mom makes a shooing motion at him. ‘Go have fun.’

‘Thanks,’ Steve says, again, and turns to find Billy has been watching them, a strange look in his eyes.

Steve clears his throat. ‘Wanna watch a movie?’

Billy nods and moves off toward the living room, leading the way like he owns the place.

He’s already settled on the couch and turned the TV on by the time Steve catches up.

‘Why don’t you make yourself at home?’ Steve says, but his voice comes out a little bit wrong.

‘Already have,’ Billy says, tongue between his teeth as he finishes on a grin.

Steve shakes his head and puts a tape in the player. He doesn’t look at what it is and Billy doesn’t ask, so he goes and sits beside him, trying not to look like he took a moment to decide if he should sit right in the corner, or more in the middle.

The movie ends up being something he rented for Dustin, but it doesn’t matter. Steve wouldn’t be able to concentrate no matter what.

Where he had been tired and dazed when he met Billy in the grocery store, now he feels wide awake. Wired. All too aware of Billy beside him, and he can barely pay attention to the movie. 

He nearly jumps out of his seat when his mom comes in with cans of pop and a bowl of chips for them—at least she didn’t bring milk and fucking cookies—which earns him a concerned look from his mom, and an amused one from Billy.

And after that, he just can’t seem to settle into himself. Robin’s words echo in his mind, and he just wants to know. Does Billy like him?

The thing is, he can’t pull his usual moves. Can’t make a flirtatious crack or slide his arm along the back of the sofa. Can’t even come right out and ask.

It would be easy if Billy were a girl. All Steve would have to lose is a little dignity if she turned him down—and, OK, with the amount of times he struck out over summer maybe he hasn’t got that much dignity left. But, still, that’s the worst that could happen.

But with Billy—

Billy could freak out. He could punch Steve. He could tell Steve’s mom. Or he could tell the whole fucking _town_ that Steve’s…

Steve has no clue how to navigate this. He keeps shooting glances at Billy and, sometimes, he’s sure he catches Billy looking back at him. But it’s not enough.

And, so, he’s almost relieved when the movie ends and Billy says he has to go home. 

Steve walks Billy out—Billy had followed Steve to the house on his motorbike—and when the cool air hits his face he realises how _warm_ he’d gotten inside. He’s not sure if it was the thermostat or sitting by Billy all evening. 

There’s silence as Billy pauses on the porch, chewing on his thumbnail. A nightbird trills somewhere in the distance. Billy looks over at Steve. ‘How about we do this again tomorrow?’ he says, not quite all in a rush, but near enough.

Steve’s heart beats so fucking hard and everything in him flips over. ‘Yeah, that would be cool,’ he says.

And when Billy smiles—not grins or smirks, but _smiles_ —Steve curses himself for not having the guts to say anything when they were inside.

Steve sighs, watching Billy walk away. At least there’s tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) I have [a moodboard for the fic over here on Tumblr](https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/616781787838988288/a-cure-for-sleepless-nights-t-wip-its-been) if you're into them :)
> 
> I guess I like them running into each other at the supermarket when one of them needs milk?! (I just wrote this into another fic, [of meet cutes and grilled cheese](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23866513) *face palm*) I mean, supermarket meet cutes are one of my favourite type of meet cutes, so…? (I guess it’s not technically a meet cute if they’ve already met, though…but I can't think of another term haha)


	4. Chapter 4

There is a small stain on Steve’s ceiling; he knows the shape of it by heart. Every angle and curve, where the darker patch is, and where it starts to fade into the rest of the paint. Its outline is seared into his brain. He stares at it every night he can’t sleep, which, lately, is most nights.

But tonight he sees past the stain, losing focus as his mind keeps pulling him back to the image of Billy on his porch. Almost hesitant to leave. Steve replays it over and over and he can’t tell if wishful thinking is distorting it or if Billy really wanted to stay.

If Billy _likes_ him.

It’s driving him crazy. He throws his covers off and gets up. Lying here isn’t doing any good. He sighs and pads downstairs, heading for the kitchen. Maybe a snack will help. Peanut butter straight from the jar because they don’t have bread. It’s better straight from the jar, anyway.

But there is light coming from the living room so he detours into there.

‘Hey, Mom,’ he says, leaning against the doorway.

‘Oh, Steven.’ His mom picks up the TV remote and mutes the sound. ‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’

Steve shakes his head. ‘No. Couldn’t sleep.’

‘Me either,’ his mom says. She pats the empty space next to her on the couch and Steve goes over and sits beside her. She runs her hand over Steve’s hair, pushing it out of his face, fingers cool on his warm skin. ‘It’s so silly,’ she says, ‘when your father is here, I can’t sleep because he snores. But when he isn’t here…’ She shrugs.

Steve hums. He’d always slept better whenever Nancy managed to stay over.

His mother’s brow furrows and she cups a hand around his jaw, brushing her thumb along the ridge of one cheek. Just skimming the dark circles Steve knows are under his eyes. ‘What’s keeping you awake, baby?’

‘I don’t know.’ Steve turns away. His mother’s hand falls to her lap. 

‘You can talk to me,’ she tries, ‘if something’s on your mind.’ She says it like she knows there is and Steve hates how she can just tell. 

Steve sighs and plays with the hem of his shirt. He leans back, letting his head fall against the couch. There’s a part of him, deep down inside, that wants nothing more than to spill his guts to his mom, right now. But he can’t tell her about Billy. Can’t tell her about any of it. He swallows. ‘I just can’t sleep. I don’t know why.’

The answer doesn’t seem to appease her, though, because she sighs and gets this look in her eyes that Steve hates. It makes something awful twist inside his chest, like he’s disappointed her. 

But then the look makes way for a small smile and she says, ‘Remember when you were little, and you couldn’t sleep, so I’d come sit with you and read to you and play with your hair until you did?’ She reaches out and runs her hand through his hair again.

And suddenly Steve wants nothing more than to be five again, so he can curl up in his mother’s lap. He used to tell her everything but, slowly, he just stopped. ‘Mom—’ His voice cracks and he blinks. 

‘Oh, baby, what’s wrong?’

Steve shakes his head. ‘I’m just tired,’ he says, but he knows it sounds like bullshit. 

His mom hesitates a moment, then she says, ‘Come here,’ and wraps an arm around his shoulders.

Steve lets himself be pulled into his mother’s arms. It’s an awkward angle, with them sitting side by side, but it feels _nice_. She’s warm and the smell of her shampoo makes Steve feel like a little kid again and everything in him goes loose.

She presses a kiss to his forehead, then pulls back. ‘You can talk to me about anything,’ she says.

‘I know,’ Steve says, ‘but there’s really nothing to talk about.’

His mom sighs but she kisses him again, then says, ‘Do you want me to make you some cocoa? I’ll slip some whisky in if you don’t tell your father.’ She winks.

‘No, I’m OK’—Steve smiles—‘but can I stay and watch TV with you?’

‘Of course, baby,’ his mom says, then turns the sound back on. She tugs at him, until he’s got his head resting in her lap.

‘I’m too old for this,’ Steve grumbles, even as he curls up.

‘Don’t be silly,’ his mom says, ‘you’re still my baby.’

‘ _Mom_.’

His mother huffs, and starts running her fingers through his hair.

It feels good. It’s been so long since Steve has let his mom do this. If his dad were here he’d make some kind of disapproving noise, or make a joke at Steve’s expense.

But his dad isn’t here and Steve’s scalp feels all tingly and he’s warm and the TV is chattering away and it’s just really, really _nice_.

It would be easy to tell his mom everything like this. Maybe she’d understand, after all. She said Steve could tell her anything, and the longer he lies here, the more Steve feels like he could tell her. The more he wants to tell her.

But then his mom says, ‘How long have you known Bobby?’ and Steve’s heart leaps. He feels like he’s been caught out, somehow.

‘You mean Billy?’ Steve says.

His mother hums.

‘Uh, we went to school together, but he started part way through senior year.’ Steve yawns. ‘We only just started hanging out, though.’

‘He looks a little wild.’

Steve huffs, even as his stomach sinks. If his mom doesn’t even like Billy as a _friend_ for Steve—

‘But it’s good to see you with another friend. You’re alone too much, these days.’

And that hits Steve hard because he’s got Robin and he’s got Dustin but…fuck. She’s not wrong. He makes a small, rough noise.

‘But don’t go thinking you can get your ear pierced, just to fit in with your new friend.’ His mom tugs on his earlobe.

The weight that started settling back into Steve’s chest lightens. He turns and looks up at her. ‘Don’t think I’d look cool with an earring?’

‘No, I don’t think you’d look cool.’ His mom raises a single brow. ‘Your ears are just fine as they are. Don’t know why young people have to put holes in themselves. It’s bad enough you won’t let me book you in for a proper haircut.’

Steve suppresses the urge to roll his eyes and says, ‘You’ll never be hip, mom,’ and winks.

‘I’ll have you know I was pretty groovy in my day,’ his mom says, smiling.

Steve hides his own smile in his mom’s knee. ‘I’m sure you were.’ He’s seen so many photos of her when she was younger. Yearbook photos, debutante ball photos, wedding photos. Always so elegant and refined. But his favourite is one of her laughing, wearing a pair of jeans, cigarette in one hand, bottle of what she insists is pop in the other. It was taken by an old boyfriend, she had told him, before his father.

His mom hums again, the sound fading into the drone of the TV.

It’s not long before Steve drifts off, feeling more relaxed than he usually does. But all night long he dreams about telling his mom that he’s into guys, that he likes Billy. In some dreams it goes well, in others, it doesn’t.

Steve wakes in the middle of one of the bad ones, heart pounding, chest tight. For a moment he panics that he can’t move, but then realises there is a blanket tucked tightly around him. He sighs and disentangles himself from it, wandering into the kitchen.

His mom is cooking eggs and, despite everything, Steve’s stomach rumbles.

‘Good morning, honey,’ his mom says, wiping her hands on a yellow apron, ‘did you sleep OK?’

‘Yeah, I did,’ Steve says, and it’s only half a lie. He still feels weird from the dreams.

But his mom serves him up a plate of fluffy eggs, and a hot cup of coffee, smiling down at him, and the tension in his chest eases.

When he remembers he’s hanging out with Billy, tonight, his stomach twists all over again, but it’s almost pleasant.

—

The day passes slowly. Steve doesn’t have work and his mom is out, and Robin and Dustin are both busy with homework. So, Steve spends the day with nothing to do but think about seeing Billy tonight.

He goes back and forth on whether he should do something about his feelings, or if he should wait it out. If he should see where this friendship between them goes first. If he should wait for some kind of sign from Billy, make sure Billy is into guys before he makes a move.

But he has no clue how to find that out without giving everything away.

He makes a snack run in the afternoon, part of him hoping he’ll run into Billy at the store, even though he’ll be seeing him in a few hours. But he doesn’t see Billy, or anyone he knows well enough to distract him, so he goes home.

He naps fitfully, the TV droning in the background, and nearly falls off the couch when his mom wakes him God knows how long later.

‘I don’t think I’ve seen you take a nap since you were six,’ she says, motioning for Steve to scoot over so she can sit beside him, on the edge of the couch. She’s wearing a slinky emerald green dress, all shoulder-pads and satin.

‘I was bored,’ Steve says, voice croaky.

His mom laughs. ‘I just wanted to tell you that I’m going out with the girls for dinner, tonight. Do you want me to make you anything before I leave?’

‘I’ll be OK,’ Steve says, pushing himself up. ‘Thanks.’

But there must be something in his voice because his mom frowns and purses her lips. ‘I can always cancel and stay home with you, if you want.’

Steve shakes his head. ‘No, you should go out.’ He breathes in, then out. ‘And I’ve got a friend coming over.’ He looks up. ‘Billy.’ His heart beats hard. He wonders if his mom can read how he feels about Billy in the way he says his name. She can tell so much else from what Steve doesn’t say, can she tell this?

But if she does, she doesn’t say anything. Only says, ‘Don’t get up to any mischief,’ then pushes Steve’s hair out of his face, lips pressed together.

‘You don’t like him, do you?’

‘Steven,’ his mom says, ‘I barely spoke to him. I’m sure he’s…very nice.’ She smiles. ‘And I’m glad you won’t be alone.’

‘Thanks,’ Steve murmurs. He can’t tell her about Billy, he knows that, because it would change everything. But he could tell her that there’s someone he likes, and he’s not sure if they like him back, and maybe—

But then his mom looks at her watch and says, ‘Oh, I have to go.’ She presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and says, ‘I’ll see you later. Don’t wait up for me.’ She winks at him and rushes off, yelling, ‘Have fun!’ over her shoulder.

Steve sighs and flops back. ‘Thanks,’ he says to the empty room.

He thinks about just lying here, while the room grows slowly darker, waiting until Billy gets here. He turns the TV off, the chattering grating on his nerves, but then the silence ends up being worse. 

That’s it. He can’t take it anymore.

He gets up, stamping on his foot because it’s gone all numb from the way he was lying down, and goes to the phone.

It rings and rings, chirping in time with Steve’s heartbeat, until someone picks up. ‘Hello?’

‘Mrs Buckley?’ Steve says, licking his lips. He shakes his foot out, the tingle of pins and needles shooting up his shin. ‘It’s Steve. Is Robin there?’

‘Sure, I’ll get her for you.’

The phone is set down on the other end and Steve faintly hears Mrs Buckley calling out to Robin and not long after Robin picks up, saying, ‘Hey, dingus.’

‘Hey,’ Steve says, letting out a long breath.

‘What’s up?’

Steve draws in a breath. ‘Why do you think Billy likes me?’

There’s silence on the other end before Robin says, ‘It’s just a feeling. I don’t know. The way he looks at you, I guess?’

‘Right.’ Steve exhales. ‘And you’re sure?’

‘No. Sorry,’ Robin says simply.

Fuck. ‘Do you think I should ask him?’

There’s a pause and then: ‘I really don’t know, Steve. You could, but—’

‘He might punch me.’

Robin huffs. ‘Yeah. But…he might not.’ There’s another pause before Robin says, ‘My gut says he won’t, if that helps?’

‘Yeah, sort of.’

‘We’re kinda hopeless, huh?’

Steve laughs. ‘I guess so.’ He’s about to change the subject, just so he can have a _moment_ of not thinking about Billy, when the doorbell rings. Fuck. How did it get to be seven already? ‘Shit, I think he’s here.’

‘Hargrove?’

‘Yeah.’ Steve’s pulse hammers in his throat. ‘I have to go.’

‘OK,’ Robin says and, ‘You’re _welcome_.’

Steve sighs. ‘Thank-you. And good luck on the test tomorrow.’

‘Thanks,’ Robin says, ‘and good luck if you, you know.’

‘Yeah,’ Steve says. ‘See you later.’ He sets the receiver down, heart leaping when the doorbell rings a second time.

He straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his hair and goes to the front door.

Billy is waiting on the porch again, wearing a burgundy shirt under his denim jacket, not smoking tonight. He’s chewing on his thumb, tapping his foot.

‘Hey,’ Steve says, opening the door wider. ‘It’s good to see you.’ And, fuck, it is but he only saw Billy yesterday and he sounds like an idiot. A way too eager idiot.

But Billy only blinks and says, almost cautiously, ‘Yeah, you too.’

Steve smiles and ushers Billy inside. He’s going to ask him. It doesn’t matter if it’s too soon: he has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) and also thanks so much for the comments on the previous chapters! I'm really happy other people are enjoying this because I'm having a lot of fun writing it :)
> 
> Also, I probably don’t need to explain anything but I’m sorry there was barely any Billy! D: I just really wanted some Steve reflecting and also I’ve been dying to write a nice scene with his mum for a while? (And the fic was originally formatted differently and I didn’t notice it was such a big chunk without Billy) 
> 
> Steve’s mum doesn’t appear in many of my fics, but for the longest time I envisioned her as quite cold and distant for the most part. But, then I started thinking of her differently, as her and Steve having a closer relationship (tbh it was after I kept thinking about Steve using his mum as a reference on his job application which is SO CUTE) and yeah, I’m happy I got to write it into something :) even if it’s probably prolonging the tension for all of you D:


	5. Chapter 5

It’s dark in the living room, so Steve flips on the light when he leads Billy inside. A warm glow washes over the room, chasing away the gloom of dusk.

‘No Buckley tonight?’ Billy asks, from where he’s stopped in the doorway. His gaze roams the room, finally settling on Steve, eyes dark in the low light.

Steve’s stomach drops. Maybe Robin was wrong. Billy _does_ like her, not Steve. The whiplash of going back and forth on this is fucking dizzying. ‘No,’ he says, ‘that OK?’

Billy shoots Steve a look he can’t read. ‘I think I’ll survive without her.’

‘Good.’ Steve tries but he can’t look away from Billy. It’s like he’s stuck in a staring contest, brain completely frozen. God, why is this so hard? He should just ask.

But Billy says, ‘You see her earlier, or something?’ and Steve loses his nerve again.

‘Uh, no.’ Steve shifts his weight. ‘Why?’

Billy jerks his chin up—‘You got lipstick’—and waves at Steve’s forehead.

‘Oh, that was my mom.’ Steve wipes the back of his hand over his forehead. It comes away stained with a smear of fuchsia and heat floods his face. Fucking hell.

‘Good,’ Billy says, pink lips tilting.

The way he says it fills Steve with hope but then Steve says, ‘Robin doesn’t wear lipstick, anyway,’ and Billy’s gaze shutters.

His posture shifts from leaning leisurely against the door to standing upright, shoulders taut, nostrils flared. ‘We gonna stand here all night?’

Steve lets out a long breath and shakes his head. ‘Guess not.’ He does his best to smile. ‘Thought we might do something wild and watch a movie.’

That, at least, gets a laugh from Billy. He scrunches his nose up, head tilted, and says, ‘You’re actually kind of weird, Harrington. Anyone ever tell you that?’

‘Nope.’ Steve finally cuts his gaze away from Billy, but he’s smiling despite the warmth in his cheeks. He waves at the TV. ‘So, wanna watch something?’

Billy shrugs. ‘Sure.’

‘Cool.’ Steve licks his lips. He doesn’t move.

Billy huffs but he finally moves from the doorway, shoulders looser, and crosses the room to sit on the couch. Close to the middle, legs spread, arms resting on his thighs.

It takes every ounce of willpower Steve has not to follow the line of Billy’s thigh from his knee to his—

Christ, but Billy wears tight jeans.

The warmth suffusing Steve’s blood has less to do with embarrassment, now. He swallows thickly and says, ‘I didn’t pick any other movies up, but I’ve got…’ He turns away, and looks over the pile of videos on the table. ‘There’s _The Outsiders_ , or—’

‘ _The Outsiders_ is fine.’

‘OK.’ Steve picks up the box, the plastic cool against his palms. It opens with a soft click; he sets it aside and puts the tape in the player, then sits by Billy. The press of their knees sends sparks shooting up his thigh. He rubs his hand along his leg and presses play on the remote control.

‘You want a beer or something?’ Steve licks his lips. ‘Chips, or um…’

‘I’m good.’

‘OK.’ Steve forces himself to settle back. His heart beats hard. It’s not the right time to ask Billy if he’s into Steve, not yet. But he slides glances Billy’s way every so often—too often, no doubt—and sometimes he seems to catch Billy just looking away. 

One time, their gazes lock, and Billy’s eyes narrow. ‘What?’ he says.

‘Nothing.’ Steve flushes at being caught out, even if Billy was looking back. ‘Just, uh…’ He’s going to do it. He’s going to ask. ‘I wanted to ask—’ Just say it. His heart thuds. He glances at the screen, back to Billy, who is looking at him expectantly.

Blood roars in Steve’s ears. He’s not going to do it. He sighs and slumps, gesturing to the screen. ‘Anyone ever tell you, uh, you look like Rob Lowe?’ Jesus. Like that’s better.

Something passes over Billy’s face but then he sneers. ‘Not anyone who didn’t want their face rearranged.’

Steve’s brows shoot up. He almost laughs, despite himself. ‘Seriously? I mean, he’s—’ Hot. Steve clears his throat. ’You know, cool.’ His face warms. ‘What’s the big deal?’

‘Ever since that fucking St Elmo’s movie came out all I get is “Oh my god, you look like Rob Lowe in that film and his name was Billy too” and “Did you get your ear pierced because of him?”.’ Billy huffs, shaking his head. ‘I’ve had my ear pierced for years.’

Steve’s lips quirk. He keeps his tone light when he says, ‘So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it if I started calling you “Sodapop”?’

Billy’s eyes flash. ‘Don’t you fucking dare.’

‘Course not.’ Steve turns back to the TV, glancing sidelong at Billy. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it’—he smiles—‘ _Sodapop_.’

‘You’re a dead man, Harrington.’

‘That so?’

‘Yes,’ Billy says and before Steve can say anything else, he reaches over and pinches Steve’s nipple and _twists_.

Steve jerks away, rubbing at his chest. ‘Ow, that hurt, you asshole.’ He shoves at Billy.

‘I warned you.’

Steve narrows his eyes. Fine. Two can play that game. But as he reaches out to pay Billy back, Billy catches his wrist, lightning fast. His fingers curl into Steve’s skin, pressing into his hammering pulse. 

They stare at each other and Billy tugs on Steve’s wrist, pulling him closer. Steve doesn’t know what Billy wants but his eyes dart to Steve’s mouth and now, now is the right time.

Steve’s going to ask. But his stupid mouth betrays him again and he says, ‘Do you like Robin?’ Damn it. The wrong fucking question.

Billy jerks away, dropping Steve’s hand. He shakes his head and runs a hand over his face and makes this noise that twists in Steve’s gut. ‘Do I—’ He runs his hands down his thighs, then stands up.

Something awful bucks in Steve’s chest, because it looks like Billy’s going to leave, only Billy isn’t moving. He’s just standing there. ‘Billy?’

‘I need a drink,’ Billy says. 

Steve’s heart thuds. ‘Sure, I’ll go get some beer.’

‘I can find my way,’ Billy says, and he stalks off toward the kitchen.

It leaves Steve alone, with only the television for company. The sound grates on his nerves the longer he sits here, so he pauses it, but he pauses it on a scene with Sodapop. He turns the movie off. 

Billy walks back in, and throws a can of beer at Steve, then sits next to him. ‘Why’d you turn the movie off?’ He pops the ring on his can, beer fizzing. ‘Trying to give me the hint to fuck off?’

‘No.’ Steve turns the can in his hands; it’s cold against his warm palms. ‘I just…’ The words he wants to say are stuck so he glances at Billy but it doesn’t help. ‘You seem weird.’

‘ _I_ seem weird? You’re the one who—’

‘Who what?’

Billy’s hand clenches around the can, slowly crushing it. He seems to realise what he’s doing because he sets it down and curls his hands over his knees. ‘Why do you think I’m into Buckley?’ His eyes widen and he looks at Steve. ‘Shit…is she into me?’

‘No.’ Steve snorts, despite himself. ‘You’re not her type either.’

Billy gives Steve a strange look, but doesn’t say anything. He licks his lips. ‘Then why’d you ask? If you’re not into her—’

‘I’m not.’

‘—and she’s not into me, why does it matter?’

‘I wanted to know why you were asking about us.’ At Billy’s questioning look, Steve adds, ‘About me and Robin. If we’re together.’ Steve leans forward, looking at Billy sidelong. ‘Why’d you want to know so bad?’

Billy huffs and shakes his head. ‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Billy—’

‘You know what, I don’t know what I thought I was doing.’ Billy gets up, crosses the room.

It sends a spike of panic through Steve and he all but launches himself from the couch. He catches Billy’s wrist, holding it up between them. His thumb presses into the heel of Billy’s palm. ‘What were you doing?’ 

Billy could pull away, so easily, but he only looks at Steve. He gives a small shake of his head, brow furrowed.

Steve tugs on Billy’s wrist, pulling him closer. It makes Steve's heart beat that Billy lets him. ‘Billy.’

‘It’s not Buckley.’

‘Then who.’ Steve tugs again. ‘If it’s not Robin, who is it?’

‘Who do you think?’ Billy says and maybe it’s the ringing in Steve’s ears playing tricks with him, but he thinks Billy’s voice has a roughness to it that wasn’t there before.

Steve smiles and finally closes the distance between them. And then Billy kisses back and everything in Steve comes alight.

It’s not like he’d thought it would be, kissing Billy, and he’s thought about it. A lot. It’s softer, slower. But it’s so so good.

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to ask,’ he says, a little breathless, when he pulls away.

‘Yeah?’ Billy’s lips are shining. His tongue darts out. ‘You went the long way about it.’

Steve bites his lip. ‘Didn’t want to risk my face being rearranged.’

‘Not a chance,’ Billy says, and he wraps his hand around the back of Steve’s neck and kisses him again.

This time it’s more like Steve had imagined, hot and hard, with Billy’s hands sunk in his hair. 

Steve makes a small noise that is too much like a moan for a _kiss_ and snakes his arms around Billy’s waist. After a moment, he starts to pull away but Billy chases the kiss and Steve lets himself fall back into it. Just a little longer.

When he does eventually pull away, he says, ‘You wanna finish the movie?’

Billy blinks at him. ‘Sure.’

Steve steps out of Billy’s embrace and turns, but then he pauses. He turns back to Billy and holds out his hand. Billy takes it, lets Steve pull him toward the couch. It might be weird to hold hands with Billy, but Billy tangles his fingers in Steve’s, so Steve doesn’t let go when they sit down and start the movie again.

They’re not even halfway through when a pleasant drowsiness washes over Steve. All that tension he’s been carrying for days melted away under Billy’s mouth and now the sleepless nights catch up with him. He turns toward Billy, like it’s instinct, until he’s curled on his side with his head in Billy’s lap.

Distantly, he hears Billy make a small noise, and then there is a hand resting in his hair, and then a warm darkness overtakes him.

Steve comes to when the credits are rolling. He shoves himself up, wiping over his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Sorry,’ he murmurs.

’S’fine,’ Billy says, voice rough.

Steve looks up at him. His pulse hammers in his throat and he feels warm all over.

‘You know Buckley was right,’ Billy says, around a crooked grin, ‘you do snore.’

‘Shut up, no I don’t.’ Steve flushes, but he can’t help but smile. ‘Do I really?’

Billy only winks, still smiling.

Steve presses his lips together. He sucks in a breath. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Go for it,’ Billy says, voice careful.

‘Will you stay over tonight?’

Billy grins, wolfish and gorgeous. ‘Damn, Harrington, you’re a fast mover.’

Warmth rushes Steve but he shakes his head. ‘I meant just to sleep.’

Billy raises a brow. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I guess I sleep better when you’re—’ Steve clears his throat. ‘When someone else is here.’

The voice yelling, ‘Abort! Abort!’ in his head sounds suspiciously like Dustin. It’s one thing to admit to wanting to _kiss_ Billy, but this? This is too…intimate.

But Billy only gapes at him, then huffs out a surprised little laugh, and shakes his head. ‘Yeah, I’ll stay over,’ he says, then reaches for his can of beer and drains it. He crushes the empty can in his fist and burps. Loud.

Steve laughs. ‘Thanks.’ He yawns, jaw cracking. ‘Fuck, sorry. I’m really tired.’

Billy leans in close. ‘Then I guess I’d better take you to bed.’

And, Jesus Christ, the heat that shoots through Steve at hearing Billy say that is intense. Just about takes his breath away. So he can only nod, dumbly, and turn the TV off.

He leads Billy to his room in silence, butterflies fluttering around his stomach, trying to work their way up his chest and throat. 

‘This is my room,’ Steve says, stupidly, pausing before his bedroom door.

Billy licks his lips and looks around the hall. ‘Your folks home?’

A spike of panic shoots through Steve. What if his mom came home and _saw_. But he glances across the hall and lets out a long breath. His parents’ bedroom door is still open. ‘No. Dad’s away and Mom went out with some of her friends for dinner.’

Billy hums and then he crowds Steve back against the door and kisses him. Hot and deep and hard.

It’s been fucking forever since Steve has been kissed like this and it’s so easy to lose himself in it. To wind his arms around Billy, sink his fingers into Billy’s hair. To hold Billy tight while they kiss. But he’s so _tired_ and he breaks away on a yawn.

Billy raises one brow and pulls back, one arm braced behind Steve on the door. ‘Am I boring you?’

‘Not even a little,’ Steve says, voice low and rough.

Billy grins, tongue between his teeth. 

It sends a hot shiver through Steve, from head to toe. He clears his throat and reaches behind him and opens his door, taking one step away from Billy, and then another. 

Moonlight slants through Steve’s window, barely enough to see by, but he doesn’t turn the light on.

The door closes behind him, and he turns to find Billy giving him a heated, pleased look. 

‘Do, uh…’ Steve swallows thickly. ‘Do you need to borrow anything to sleep in?’

‘Wait, you really invited me up here just to sleep?’

‘Yeah,’ Steve says, face warm, ‘I’m tired.’ It’s not that he doesn’t want to do more than sleep, but he _is_ tired and he wants it to be better than it probably would be tonight, if they— He fixes his lips into a smile. ‘And, anyway, I don’t put out on the first date.’ He winks.

‘That so?’

‘Mm.’

Billy crosses his arms over his stomach, still leaning against the door. ‘And who says tonight was a date?’

It’s a joke but it still makes Steve’s heart skip. ‘Well, then I’m definitely not putting out.’

Billy huffs, lips tilting. ‘So fucking weird.’ He pushes away from the door, and bites his thumbnail. ‘OK, you got some sweats I can sleep in, then?’

‘Yeah.’ Steve goes to his dresser, arm brushing Billy as he passes him, all too aware of Billy’s presence in the room as he digs through his drawer. But it’s strange because he still feels relaxed and sleepy. Billy is in his room, and he wants to kiss Steve, and do more than just sleep together, and Steve feels relaxed. Excited beneath it, but relaxed.

He shakes his head and pulls out a pair of grey sweats, then balls them up and throws them at Billy.

Billy catches them with one hand, then sets them on Steve’s bed, and reaches for his belt buckle.

The room seems too small and Steve turns back to his dresser to get something for himself to wear.

‘Such a gentleman,’ Billy says, from behind Steve, ‘preserving my modesty like that.’

Steve grabs a shirt and some sweats and turns back. ‘Didn’t realise you had any to preserve.’ Without thinking, his gaze flicks down to Billy’s bare thighs.

Billy snorts and hops into the sweats. He sheds his jacket and shirt, leaving him only in an undershirt that stretches tight over his chest.

Steve doesn’t turn away when he changes, knowing Billy is watching him.

‘Which side?’ he asks, standing at the foot of his bed.

Billy shrugs one shoulder and, a week ago, Steve would never have thought Billy might feel nervous or awkward. But he can see it now.

‘I usually sleep in the middle,’ Steve says, ‘but I like this side when…’ He trails off, not wanting to mention Nancy or other girlfriends.

But Billy is already crawling onto the bed, the side closest to the window, and getting under the covers.

Steve hesitates a moment, then joins him.

A little of the tension he’d felt earlier seeps in beneath the lax sleepiness, now that he’s in bed with Billy. He shifts until his head is resting on the pillow, wriggles so his feet aren’t tangled in the sheets, then rolls onto his side.

Billy is still sitting slumped against the headboard, so Steve reaches out and tugs until Billy takes the hint and lies down. He doesn’t roll onto his side, but he does turn his head. It casts his face into shadow, the moonlight shining through the window behind him catching the gold in his hair.

It looks like he wants to say something but he only frowns and stares back up at the ceiling. 

Steve’s gaze traces the outline of Billy’s nose, his lips, coming to rest on his throat. ‘You know,’ he says, eventually, ‘I’m not too tired to make out for a while.’

That gets a small laugh and a twitch of Billy’s lips that turns into a full blown smile. He rolls onto his side, and slides a hand along Steve’s waist. Fingers catching on the hem of his shirt.

Steve smiles, shifting closer until he can press their lips together, sucking Billy’s bottom lip between his. 

This close, Steve can hear Billy’s breath catch, and he sucks on his lip again, then slides his tongue into Billy’s mouth. He pushes at Billy’s shoulder, rolling on top of him, barely breaking the kiss.

It’s been so long since Steve has made out with someone just for the sake of it, where he hasn’t expected it to lead further, and it’s so much better than he remembers it being. 

Billy fits his hands over Steve’s shoulders as Steve kisses along Billy’s jaw, to his neck. Rests his face there for a moment, breathing in the warm scent of Billy.

He smells so _good_. And he’s so warm.

And comfortable.

Maybe Steve can close his eyes for a moment. Just to rest them.

‘Harrington.’

‘Mm.’

‘Are you falling asleep on me?’

‘No.’

‘You sure about that?’ Billy says, his hands sliding down to Steve’s waist.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it, _Sodapop_ ,’ Steve says, and has to stop himself from laughing, because it seems _really_ funny, right now.

‘Fuck’s sake.’ Billy huffs and Steve feels the movement beneath his own ribs. ‘You know, I can’t say I’ve ever had anyone fall asleep while we’re making out before. It’s great for my ego.’

‘You’re just…so warm,’ Steve says, and he can hear the slur in his own voice as sleep pulls at him, ‘and I’m so tired.’

Billy makes a small, formless noise, hands tightening on Steve.

Steve manages to pull back and look at him. ‘We can pick up where we—’ He yawns, shaking his head. ‘Where we left off tomorrow?’

Billy is smiling up at him in a way Steve has never seen him smile before. If Steve weren’t so tired he might be able to figure out what it means, but he doesn’t really care, because all that matters is Billy wants to kiss him, too. 

‘Yeah, OK,’ Billy says.

‘OK.’ Steve presses another kiss to Billy’s lips, then rolls off of him, cuddling up against Billy’s side. He’s not usually like this so soon, but fuck it. He’s too tired to care.

‘Uh, good night, I guess,’ Billy says, on a laugh.

‘Yeah,’ Steve murmurs and then he surrenders to the pull of sleep.

—

Morning light bathes Steve’s room, warm and soft. He’s been awake for five or ten minutes, watching Billy sleeping next to him. It’s nice waking up next to someone, waking up next to _Billy_. Steve holds his pillow tighter, biting his lip against a smile.

Moments later, Billy’s eyes flutter open, and he blinks at Steve. His lips twitch and he lets out a long, low breath.

‘Hey.’ Steve licks his lips. ‘Sleep OK?’

‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’ Billy asks, voice rough and slow with sleep. ‘You’re the insomniac.’

‘Former,’ Steve says, around a yawn. ‘I think.’

‘That mean you won’t need my services anymore? Now that you’re—’

But Steve cuts him off, leaning in and catching Billy’s mouth with his own. Not even thinking about morning breath. ‘Still need them,’ he says.

Billy huffs. ‘Good to hear.’ He stretches one arm above his head, yawning. ‘Hey, what’s the time?’

‘Um.’ Steve’s heart jolts. Maybe Billy has to go. Maybe he _wants_ to go. Steve shakes the thought off, because Billy was the one who thought Steve might be having second thoughts, or something, and looks at the clock radio on his bedside table ‘It’s about eight.’

‘That’s still pretty early,’ Billy says, running a hand along Steve’s side.

‘Yeah,’ Steve says, frowning. His brain is still slow with sleep. But it eventually catches up. ‘Yeah, it is.’ He smiles and shifts closer, snaking an arm around Billy’s waist, and tangling their legs together. ‘Maybe we should stay in bed a bit longer.’

‘Yeah,’ Billy says, smiling sleepily, ‘maybe we should.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) I’m super happy that so many of you liked how I wrote Steve’s mum last chapter by the way :)
> 
> And I’m so glad that other people got a kick out of what was a very self indulgent fic!
> 
> ETA: [I have a mood board on tumblr :)](https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/616781787838988288/a-cure-for-sleepless-nights-t-wip-its-been)
> 
> A couple of background notes: 
> 
> You don’t know how long I’ve been dying to write Steve calling Billy Sodapop into a fic… (I mean, I’m sure I’m not the first to do it, but I'm way too amused by it haha but yeah I’m sorry if I’ve inadvertently borrowed that from someone else - it’s not something I ever remember seeing! XD)
> 
> Also, I know that no one’s here for my movie recs haha But because I mentioned The Outsiders, I want to say if you like that film, you should TOTALLY watch Rumble Fish (which Coppola filmed back to back with The Outsiders and is, IMHO, totally underrated). It’s got an incredible score and it’s shot in gorgeous black and white!


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